


A Matter Of Integrity

by loves_books



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-08-12 15:42:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7940101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loves_books/pseuds/loves_books
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s always been a matter of both integrity and pride for Laura: she doesn’t lie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Matter Of Integrity

It’s always been a matter of both integrity and pride for Laura: she doesn’t lie.

Whether it’s a personal question or a professional one, whether an insignificant matter or a more life-changing issue, she decided long ago that it was always better to tell the truth. If she doesn’t know the answer, then that’s what she’ll say. If, on the other hand, she does know the answer but simply can’t share it, for whatever reason, then she’ll say that instead.

Laura has her reasons, and, to be honest, those reasons aren’t entirely about her integrity. She’s been lied to before by people she both loved and trusted, and by god it hurts. Former lovers, friends, even family – time doesn’t ease that kind of pain.

There was the boyfriend who had cheated on her consistently during their three years together, his lies becoming increasingly creative and convoluted until eventually he’d tied himself in knots and Laura had finally put the horrific pieces together, feeling like a fool for not seeing the truth earlier. Then there was the seemingly innocent lie her cousin had told years ago which had created such a deep rift within their family that Laura sometimes wondered if it could ever be healed.

Laura herself had been the subject of a particularly malicious lie in her second year studying at Oxford, a lie that threatened to cost her a much-wanted internship before the truth had finally been uncovered. And she’s seen colleagues lie for a whole multitude of reasons – often to cover their own mistakes, or sometimes to make the truth slightly more palatable. Whatever the reason, it all seems wrong to Laura.

Still, sometimes people lie for the best of reasons. She’s heard James say that from time to time, and he’s right, of course. The odd little white lie will slip from her lips on occasion, in spite of her best efforts. Telling a colleague her new dress looks lovely, for example, when the reality is that it’s two sizes too small and at least six inches too short. And keeping a straight face when she tells Robbie his latest attempt at cooking dinner tastes delicious, when it’s actually just burned beyond all belief.

She smiles as she realises that one of the things she loves most about Robbie is that he’s as straightforward as she is, even if he does have to be a little more creative with the truth from time to time, for example when he’s questioning a suspect.

There’s another rather important reason Laura doesn’t lie: she’s terrible at it. She stutters, she blushes, she blinks wildly and starts making awkward gestures, and she just knows she isn’t fooling anyone.

There are times when Laura wishes she could lie with just a little greater ease and skill, just for the rare moments when she can’t fall back on her usual answers of either ‘I don’t know’ or ‘I can’t say’. Times like right now, when she can’t be quite so obvious. A lie of omission is still a lie, after all, and she’s always worried her guilt will be clear in her voice or eyes.

It’s Lizzie who calls first, perhaps predictably, the shrill ringing of the telephone echoing loudly through the silence of the nearly empty mortuary. “Have you seen DI Hathaway?” Lizzie asks when Laura picks up, concern just barely detectable to knowing ears, buried deeply beneath the sergeant’s professional veneer. “He’s not answering his phone, and I wondered if he’d gone to see you?”

Laura takes a deep breath, gathering her thoughts before simply stating, “I gave James my final report this morning, Lizzie.” 

“I know, but I thought…” A soft sigh. “So he didn’t come back for anything? No last questions or queries? I know how his mind works in mysterious ways sometimes.” Lizzie is too professional to say that their current case, and the results of the post mortem in particular, aren’t sitting at all well with James, though of course Laura is all too aware of that.

“We covered everything this morning,” Laura says again, after a short pause. “I’m sure that wherever James is, he’s fine. Aren’t you both finished for the day by now anyway?” It’s just gone eight in the evening, after all, and Laura knows that the case is pretty much concluded, in spite of James’s feelings.

“I thought he might fancy a pint or two; I know I certainly do,” Lizzie tells her with a laugh that sounds both forced and exhausted, even over the phone. “If you see him, could you maybe ask him to call me?”

That much Laura can certainly promise, and she does exactly that before wishing Lizzie a good night and ending the call. Not for the first time, Laura thinks to herself that Jean Innocent did very well there, matching DS Maddox with DI Hathaway – Lizzie’s a good sergeant for James, quick-witted and certainly not afraid to speak her mind, and she’s been good for Robbie too. 

“Laura? You still here, love?” Ah, think of the devil…

“In here, Robbie,” Laura calls from where she is standing in the mortuary’s tiny kitchenette, where she’s waiting for the kettle to boil.

Sharp footsteps echo ever so slightly on the tiled floor and soon enough Robbie’s head appears around the corner of the door, a half-smile on his handsome face. “There you are,” he proclaims, as if he’s spent hours looking everywhere for Laura. “How’s things?”

Laura kisses him warmly when he comes close enough, his evening stubble slightly rough against her chin and his big hand warm when it comes to rest against her waist, sliding round to the small of her back. She cups his cheek in her hand as the kiss ends, stroking gently with her thumb.

“Things are just fine, thank you,” she tells him with a smile of her own, hoping it comes across as natural. “A bit of a paperwork backlog, though. I was going to call you.” That’s not a lie, sadly; her desk is slowly disappearing beneath reports that should really have been filed last week.

Robbie pecks her on the cheek again as she drops her hand away. “I was going to call you too, but then I was already on the way and I thought I’d just pop in. Wondered if you’d seen James this evening? Lizzie’s lost him, apparently, and he’s not answering his phone.”

“That’s not like James.” 

“No, it’s not; that bloody contraption is usually glued to his hand. It was a bit of a bad case for him, I heard, and… well, I just wanted to see if he was okay. In need of a pint, perhaps, or a home-cooked meal.” The concern in Robbie’s voice is barely concealed, and Laura finds she suddenly can’t quite meet his eyes, so she busies herself finding a clean mug and digging out the teabags.

“He’s a big boy, Robbie. If he wants to talk then I’m sure he’ll find you.”

“So he hasn’t stopped by at all?” Robbie’s noticed, of course, that Laura hasn’t actually answered his question; the perils of being in a relationship with a detective. “I know he sometimes…”

Laura smiles again, pouring water over the teabag and turning to find the sugar. “Yes, he does sometimes.” She leans over to kiss Robbie again. “I’ll be home in an hour or so, I think,” she whispers against his lips and Robbie’s eyes narrow briefly before he nods decisively.

“Okay then, I guess your paperwork won’t do itself,” he declares, straightening his rumpled jacket and turning to leave, though he pauses briefly in the doorway. “I’ll try James again later, and maybe I’ll stop by his flat on my way home, just in case he’s there. I’ll have a late dinner waiting for you either way, pet, I promise.”

“You’re really too kind to me,” Laura manages, rather than giving in to the urge to say ‘please don’t bother, I’d rather pick up a curry’.

“If you see James,” Robbie starts, then stops, shaking his head. “Ah, you know. See you later, love.”

Laura does know what to do, of course, probably far better than Lizzie or even Robbie, who can almost certainly see that Laura is hiding something from him. She waits until the sound of his retreating footsteps fades away entirely before reaching for a second mug, making more tea and grabbing the half-empty packet of dark chocolate digestives from the back of the cupboard.

Juggling the two mugs and the biscuits, Laura makes her way quietly through the mortuary to one of the back rooms, the tiny office or cleaning cupboard or storage area that all the staff use when they need a moment to breathe quietly but can’t take the time to head outside.

James is right where Laura had left him, of course, crumpled down on a low stool with his knees practically up around his ears. His suit is as dishevelled as his hair, and his skin appears too pale, especially beneath the harsh and unforgiving fluorescent light, his eyes slightly wild and a little unfocussed.

“Here you go, James,” Laura tells him softly, swallowing back her concern as she presses one of the mugs into his unresisting hands – black, one sugar, just as he prefers, though she might have been a little more generous than usual with the sugar. “Biscuits too.”

She watches as he takes an automatic sip of his tea. He immediately takes another, his eyes closing briefly as if in bliss. “Thanks,” he whispers, his voice rough. “Were those Robert’s dulcet tones I heard?”

“They were indeed.” Laura perches carefully on the collapsible chair opposite James, sipping from her own mug. “Lizzie phoned as well, asking if you were here.”

“You didn’t – ?” 

There’s alarm in his voice now, and Laura hushes him gently. He should know better. “Of course I didn’t, though Lizzie wants you to call her and Robbie says he’ll stop by your flat. They’re just worried, you know.”

James sags back down onto his stool in obvious relief. “Yes, I do know. Thank you,” he says again, sipping steadily at his tea. “Sorry, I won’t stay long, I just needed somewhere…”

Again, Laura hushes him into silence, offering him the digestives and smiling indulgently when he takes two. He doesn’t come here often – in fact, it’s been years since she last found him skulking through her mortuary after hours, looking as if the weight of the world was resting on his shoulders, but she knows what he needs when he does come to her. Quiet, a safe space, and tea. Lots of tea.

“You’re welcome here as long as you need, James. You know that.” 

At her softly-spoken words, James manages a half-hearted smile and a nod, letting his head rest back against the tiled wall, already looking a little more at ease than he had earlier. A comfortable silence falls between them and Laura feels as if a knot in her chest has eased slightly as they just sit and breathe together.

If she has to lie through her teeth to Lizzie and Robbie in order to give James this quiet time and the safe place he needs, then she will. And if ‘call-me-Joe’ Moody phones, or Nell Hathaway knocks on the door, or anyone else turns up asking after a James who just isn’t ready to see anyone, then Laura’s integrity can certainly stretch to accommodating a few more little lies.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the 'Women Of Morse Universe' challenge over on lj, for a prompt from Egalitarianmuse.
> 
> Huge thanks to Willowbrooke for being both beta and cheerleader.


End file.
